


Inside

by genee



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-12
Updated: 2005-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Nick never really wanted to be on his own, which isn't any sort of secret.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside

Nick never really wanted to be on his own, which isn't any sort of secret, except in the way that it really is, in the way that it's the biggest secret ever. No one knows, he doesn't talk about it, _no one_ talks about it, but Nick started out as two, and even though he isn't supposed to be able to remember back that far, back before he was born, he does, sort of.

His memories are watery and everything is tinged red and dark but he isn't alone, his brother is with him, curled around him, so close Nick remembers the way he tasted, his tiny fingers, his downy skin. Before he's alone, he's never sure where he starts and his brother begins, because always there are two of him. At first there are two of everything, two cradles and two high chairs and two strollers and Nick doesn't know what happened, he doesn't remember, but one day he woke up and it was bright and cold and there was only one of everything, only one of him, and in his heart he knew, he _knows_. One is never enough.

He doesn't know the word for it, but he's lonely, and he thinks his mom and dad are lonely, too. He wishes they would hold him close, especially at night, in the dark of his room. He only wants to touch them, to be close, to feel someone else's heartbeat like he feels his own, but his parents look at him like he's breaking their hearts and he knows he is, somehow, even though he isn't trying to.

There are no pictures, and even before his sisters are born he knows better than to ask. His mom's hands are quick and cruel and sometimes her rings leave marks, bruises that cling to his skin. And later, when the twins come home, there are two of everything again, and Nick twists his fingers in the hem of his shirts, pulling the cotton close so he doesn't feel so alone.

He whispers, and he sings in the shadows, his voice too soft for anyone else to hear. He thinks his brother listens, though. He thinks both his brothers listen, because when he sings the hollow place in chest fills up, achy and so swollen sometimes he thinks it might burst. It's better than the ocean, better than being all caught up in the waves, sand and shells scraping his knees and tangling up in his hair. It's his favorite hurt in the world.

Aaron likes to curl right up against him, his ear pressed to Nick's chest, his little fingers splayed across Nick's throat. Aaron likes the way it feels when Nick sings, and Nick likes the way it feels, too, trust and hope and Aaron's heart beating so steady, his breath on Nick's skin warm and sticky-sweet.

Leaving Aaron behind is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. It isn't forever, he whispers, but Aaron's too little to understand and Nick remembers how that feels. Aaron's tears taste like his memories, and Nick holds him close and pretends his parents aren't his parents, so far away from him even when they're standing right there, and Nick knows he has to do this.

He's never wanted to be on his own, and now that he's a Backstreet Boy, he never really is. They're almost like brothers, always together, hugging and touching and it's almost like he remembers, _almost_ , and it's _wonderful_ , and Nick has to promise himself he won't forget. He still dreams about being two sometimes, open and drifty and so so close, and Nick knows it means something even if he doesn't know what. He knows the truth is out there, and he knows once he finds it, he's not ever letting go.  
   
   


\-- End -- 


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